\DIES'  RICH 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OB 

David  Freedman 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 
IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 
THE  HICKORY  LIMB 

Illustrated.     Cloth.     60  cents  net 

"The  joyful  pathos  is  so  true  that  it 
chokes  you  all  up  but  leaves  you  happy, 
and  one  likes  to  be  left  happy." 

"An  hour  of  amusement,  a  series  of 
laughs  from  the  heart  out  and  a  pleas- 
ant vista  backward  to  the  days  of 
childhood  will  come  to  the  reader  of 
'The  Hickory  Limb.' " 

Cincinnati  Tribune. 

JOHN    LANE    COMPANY 
NEW    YORK 


"What's  the  matter,  Margery?" 
"Nothing.     I'm  just  waiting." 

(See  page  13) 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 
IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 


By 
PARKER  H.  FILLMORE 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  HICKORY  LIMB," 
"THE  ROSIE  WORLD,"  ETC. 


Illustrations  by 

ROSE  CECIL  O'NEILL 


NEW  YORK 

JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 

MCMXVI 


Copyright,  1911, 
By  John  Lane  Company 

Copyright,  1916, 
By  John  Lane  Company 


Press  of 

J.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Company 
New  York.  U.  S.  A. 


NOTE:  THE  FIRST  PART  OF  THIS  STORY  IS 
REPRINTED  FROM  "THE  YOUNG  IDEA,"  NOW 
OUT  OF  PRINT;  THE  SECOND  PART  HAS 
NEVER  UNTIL  NOW  APPEARED  IN  BOOK  FORM. 


P: 


852176 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"What's  the  matter,  Margery?"     "Noth- 
ing.    I'm  just  waiting."    .        Frontispiece 


PAGE 


"I'm  only  the  hired  girl!"      ....      19 

"Margery,  do  you  see  him?    The  bees  are 

after  him!"  30 


A  LITTLE   QUESTION   IN 
LADIES'  RIGHTS 


PART  ONE 

MARGERY  was  sitting  under  the 
cherry  tree  with  a  certain  air  of 
expectancy.  She  seemed  to  be 
waiting  for  something  or  some  one.  Wil- 
lie Jones's  head  popped  over  the  back  fence 
and  Willie  Jones  himself,  a  tin  pail  in  one 
hand,  dropped  into  the  Blair  yard  and 
made  for  the  cherry  tree.  But  Margery 
still  gazed  earnestly,  tensely,  into  nothing. 
Willie  Jones,  evidently,  was  not  the  object 
of  her  thoughts. 

"What's  the  matter,  Margery?" 

"Nothing.    I'm  just  waiting." 

"What  for?" 

There  was  no  reason  for  telling  Willie 
Jones,  but,  by  the  same  token,  there  was 
no  reason  for  not  telling  him.  So  Mar- 
gery answered  frankly: 

"I  et  a  whole  bagful  of  bananas  and 
[13] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

now  Effie  says  I'm  going  to  be  sick  and 
thr'up.  So  I'm  just  waiting." 

"Whew!  How  many  was  they,  Mar- 
gery?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  a  good  many." 

"Think  you  might  have  shared  with  a 
fella." 

"Well,  you  see,  Willie,  I  didn't  know 
anything  about  them.  None  of  us  did. 
I  thought  I  smelled  something  good  in 
the  pantry,  and  when  Effie  went  upstairs 
I  sneaked  in  to  see.  Sure  enough,  there 
was  a  bag  of  bananas,  real  soft  and 
sweet,  don't  you  know.  I  et  one  and  then 
I  et  another  and,  before  I  knew  it,  they 
were  all  gone.  Then  Effie  caught  me  as 
I  was  coming  out." 

"Will  she  tell  on  you?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  she'll  tell  on  me. 
But  she  says  I'm  going  to  be  awful  sick. 
I  was  once  before.  So  I'm  just  waiting." 

"Aw,  you're  not  going  to  be  sick,  Mar- 
gery. That's  only  Effie's  bluff.  Listen: 
[14] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

I'm  going  out  blackberrying.  There  are 
just  dead  loads  of  great  big  ripe  ones  on 
the  graveyard  patch.  My  mother'll  give 
me  ten  cents  if  I  bring  her  back  two 
quarts." 

Margery  looked  at  the  tin  pail  long- 
ingly. She,  too,  would  go  blackberrying, 
but  she  realized  that  home  was  the  best 
place  for  sick  folk. 

"Aw,  come  on,"  Willie  urged.  "You're 
not  going  to  be  sick.  I  bet  anything 
you're  not." 

Confidence  begets  confidence,  and,  look- 
ing at  Willie  Jones's  tin  pail,  Margery 
began  to  wonder  whether,  after  all,  Effie's 
prophecy  might  not  prove  a  false  one. 

"I  tell  you  what,  Willie :  Wait  a  min- 
ute and  I'll  ask  Effie." 

"Why  do  you  got  to  ask  her?" 

"Because  mother's  not  home.  Besides, 
if  I  do  get  sick,  I'll  want  Effie  to  take  care 
of  me." 

This  last  was  too  sound  a  reason  for 
[15] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

Willie  to  gainsay,  so  Margery  called  Effie 
to  the  kitchen  door. 

"Blackberryin'I  And  in  the  sun!"  Ef- 
fie repeated,  when  Margery  had  delivered 
herself.  "Well,  I  guess  not!  Here  you 
are  just  stuffed  full  of  ripe  bananas  and 
you  want  a-go  out  trampin'  in  the  sun! 
Not  much!  You  stay  right  where  you 
are,  me  lady,  and  take  care  o'  yourself." 

"You  see,"  Margery  explained  to  Wil- 
lie Jones. 

"Aw,  rats!"  that  young  gentleman  ex- 
claimed, turning  a  hostile  front  toward 
the  kitchen  door.  "Come  on,  Margery. 
What  do  you  care  what  Effie  says  ?  She's 
nuthin'  but  an  old  hired  girl !  I  wouldn't 
let  any  old  hired  girl  boss  me  around!" 

"Any  old — what?"  gasped  Effie,  her 
face  turning  red  and  her  eyes  opening 
wide  with  horror. 

"Any  old  hired  girl!"  Willie  Jones  re- 
peated defiantly.    "Ain't  she  nuthin'  but 
an  old  hired  girl,  Margery?" 
[16] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

It  was  a  question  Margery  had  never 
before  considered.  To  her  Effie  had  al- 
ways been  merely  Effie — merely  the  per- 
son who  cooked  and  sewed  and  swept  and 
waited  on  table  and  combed  your  hair  and 
buttoned  your  dress  and  did  all  the  thou- 
sand and  one  things  about  the  house  that 
had  to  be  done  and  always  were  done.  She. 
was  merely  Effie  and,  come  to  think  of  it, 
she  must  be  the  hired  girl,  for  in  every 
house  in  the  neighborhood  the  person  who 
did  the  things  or  a  few  of  the  things  that 
Effie  did  was  undoubtedly  the  hired  girl. 
And  if  you  are  a  thing,  what's  the  sense 
pretending  you  aren't?  Margery  did  not 
wish  to  offend  Effie,  but  facts  is  facts. 

"Of  course  Effie's  our  hired  girl." 

For  a  moment  Effie  looked  hurt  enough 
for  tears. 

"Oh,  Margery,  how  can  you?     And 

after  all  the  years  I've  took  care  of  you 

and  loved  you!     You  don't  mean  it,  do 

you?    You're  not  going  to  call  your  poor 

[17] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

old  Effie  such  an  ugly  name,  are  you?" 
"Well,  I  don't  see  why  you  talk  that 
way,  Effie.    You  are  a  hired  girl,  aren't 
you?" 

"Of  course  she's  a  hired  girl,"  Willie 
Jones  insisted.  "And  I'd  just  like  to  see 
any  old  hired  girl  of  ours  telling  me  what 
I  dast  do  and  what  I  dassent.  Come  on, 
Margery,  we  can't  wait  all  day." 

"Any  old  hired  girl!"  shouted  Effie. 
She  was  angry  now,  so  angry  that  Mar- 
gery and  Willie  Jones  retreated  a  few 
steps  in  case  of  personal  violence.  "So 
I'm  like  any  old  hired  girl,  am  I?  I'm 
only  one  of  them  good-for-nuthin'  tramps 
that  go  traipsin'  about  from  house  to  house 
and  never  keep  a  place  for  more  than  two 
weeks,  am  I?  I'm  a  dirty,  careless,  ig- 
nur'nt  hussy  that's  out  all  night  and 
sleepy  and  lazy  all  day,  am  I?  In 
other  words,  I'm  a  hired  girl!  Well, 
it's  just  what  Tom's  been  tellin'  me 
all  along,  and  I  didn't  believe  him. 
[18] 


'I'm  only  the  hired  girl!" 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

'Nonsense,'  says  he,  'they  don't  care 
nuthin'  for  you.  To  them  yir  only  a 
hired  girl,'  says  he.  'Now  come  over  to 
my  place  and  I'll  make  you  the  house- 
keeper,' says  he,  'and  all  you'll  have  to 
do  is  give  your  orders  to  the  servants.' 
And  every  time  I  says  to  Tom,  'No,  Tom,' 
I  says,  'I'm  not  ready  yet.  I've  been  with 
these  children  since  before  they  was  born 
and  I  can't  leave  'em  yet.  But  thank  you 
just  the  same,'  I  says.  And  Tom  says, 
'Effie,  yir  a  born  fool!  What  do  you  think 
them  children  care  for  you?'  he  says. 
'Only  what  they  can  get  out  of  you,'  he 
says.  And,"  concluded  Erne,  her  voice 
again  choked  with  tears,  "I  am  a  fool  and 
Tom's  right.  They  don't  care  nuthin'  for 
me  and  I'm  only  the  hired  girl !" 

"Who's  Tom,  I'd  like  to  know?"  WiUie 
Jones  demanded  offensively. 

"Who's  Tom?"  echoed  Effie.  It  was 
plain  that  insult  was  being  added  to  in- 
jury. "Why,  Tom,  me  young  friend, 
[21] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

is  Thomas  McGinniss,  Conthractor  and 
Builder,  that  built  the  house  yir  living  in 
and  every  house  on  your  street.  And  it's 
ten  to  one,  me  young  gent,  that  yir  own 
dad  is  still  payin'  his  monthly  installments 
to  Tom  McGinniss,  brother  of  Effie  the 
Hired  Girl." 

Effie  turned  haughtily  away,  theta 
paused  to  add:  "If  either  of  yez  ever 
again  have  anything  to  say  to  Effie,  when 
ye  ring  Mr.  Thomas  McGinniss's  door- 
bell, ye  had  better  mind  yir  manners  and 
ask  for  Miss  McGinniss." 

Effie  slammed  the  kitchen  door  and 
Willie  Jones  showed  how  deeply  im- 
pressed he  was  by  putting  his  thumb  on 
the  end  of  his  nose  and  wiggling  his  fin- 
gers in  a  manner  that  Margery  had  often 
been  told  was  highly  improper. 

"Well,  come  on,"  he  said  briskly.  "It's 
time  for  us  to  be  moving  or  we  never  will 
get  two  quarts  picked." 

So  off  they  started,  a  good  half  hour's 
[22] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

tramp  in  the  sun.  The  blackberry  patch 
was  in  a  far  unused  corner  of  the  grave- 
yard, adjoining  a  plot  of  unconsecrated 
ground  where,  as  Willie  and  Margery 
had  often  heard,  only  murderers  were 
buried.  There  was,  of  course,  the  usual 
No  Trespassing  sign  to  meet  and  pass, 
the  wire  fence  to  slip  under,  and  a  short 
stretch  of  clay  and  rubble  which  ended 
suddenly  in  a  thick  brake  of  blackberry 
bushes.  Once  in  the  patch  all  that  was 
necessary  was  to  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  the 
gravedigger's  house,  which  stood  on  a 
knoll  beyond,  in  plain  sight,  but  far 
enough  away  to  give  one  a  good  chance 
of  escape  in  case  of  detection. 

"Now,  I'll  let  you  hold  the  pail,  Mar- 
gery, and  I'll  pick  into  my  hat.  Jimmy! 
They  haven't  been  picked  over  to-day  at 
all.  We'll  get  our  two  quarts  easy." 

"H'm,"  murmured  Margery,  tenta- 
tively. There  was  a  little  matter  upon 
which  she  had  been  speculating  ever  since 
[23] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

they  had  left  home.    "Are — are  you  going 
to  give  me  half  the  money?" 

"What  money?" 

"Why,  don't  you  know,  the  money  your 
mother's  going  to  pay  you  for  these  ber- 
ries." 

"Oh." 

The  Oh  was  all  Willie  had  to  answer. 

"Well,  are  you?" 

"Are  I  what?" 

"Are  you  going  to  give  me  half  the 
money?" 

"Well,  I— I  hadn't  thought  about  it," 
Willie  admitted. 

Margery  felt  perfectly  sure  of  this  and 
sure  likewise  that  he  never  would  think 
of  it  unless  she  herself  insisted  on  Ler 
rights. 

"Then  just  think  about  it  now.  Here 
I  am  picking  berries  for  you  as  fast  as  I 
can.  I  haven't  et  one.  Now  if  you  go 
sell  these  berries,  you  ought  to  give  me 
half,  oughtn't  you?" 

[24] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

"I  dunno  but  what  I  ought." 

A  timid  creature  would  have  rested 
content  with  this,  but  Margery  had  had 
too  many  dealings  with  the  other  sex  to 
put  undue  confidence  in  any  concession 
so  vaguely  expressed,  so  grudgingly  ad- 
mitted. It  was  rather  a  hard  thing  to  do 
— she  knew  beforehand  Willie  Jones 
would  hate  her  for  it — but  a  nickel  is  a 
nickel,  and  now  or  never,  she  realized,  was 
the  moment  to  demand  a  definite  promise. 

"Well,  then,  will  you?" 

Willie  seemed  not  to  hear. 

"Will  you?"  Margery  repeated,  stop- 
ping her  picking  to  make  her  question 
more  emphatic. 

Willie  looked  up  apprehensively  toward 
the  gravedigger's  house. 

"If  you  don't  stop  arguing  and  go 
ahead  picking  we  won't  either  of  us  have 
anything,"  he  burst  out  querulously. 

It  was  hard  indeed  not  to  act  upon  a 
suggestion  so  plainly  expected  to  be  of 
[25] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

benefit  to  them  both.  Fortunately,  Mar- 
gery knew  that  if  she  had  but  character  to 
persist  a  little  longer  she  would  probably 
gain  her  end.  So,  by  a  great  effort  of 
will,  she  continued  idle  and  reiterated  tire- 
somely : 

"Well,  will  you?'' 

"Will  I?  Why,  of  course  I  will!" 
Willie  raised  his  voice  and  screwed  up  his 
face  into  a  tight  little  knot  of  impatience 
and  disgust.  "Haven't  I  been  telling  you 
that  for  half  an  hour?  You  are  the  dumb- 
est ox  sometimes!  Why,  do  you  suppose 
I'd  ask  you  to  help  me  if  I  hadn't  ex- 
pected to  share  with  you  ?  You  must  think 
I'm  an  awful  tightwad!" 

Margery  bent  her  head  humbly  under 
this  tirade.  She  had  nothing  more  to  say, 
no  defense  to  utter.  By  her  unwomanly 
persistence  she  had  very  clearly  lost  what- 
ever admiration  and  respect  Willie  Jones 
might  once  have  felt  for  her.  But — but 
— but  she  was  in  for  half  the  profits  1  .  .  . 
[26] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

Women  are  so  prone  nowadays  to  prefer 
some  petty  material  gain  to  the  grand  old- 
fashioned  whatchemaycallit. 

"I  think  we're  going  to  get  our  two 
full  quarts,"  Margery  remarked  amiably. 
Of  course  she  was  amiable.  She  had  every 
reason  to  be  amiable. 

JVillie  Jones,  who  by  this  time  had  fal- 
len silent,  made  no  comment. 

"Don't  you  think  so?"  Margery  pur- 
sued sweetly. 

"Huh!"  grunted  Willie  Jones. 

When  the  tin  pail  was  about  full  an 
accident  happened  to  Margery.  She 
stepped  into  something  soft  and  clayey, 
and  the  next  instant,  seeing  what  it  was, 
she  started  off  by  leaps  and  bounds,  cry- 
ing out  the  shrill  warning:  "Run,  Willie, 
run  I  Bumble  bees !  I  stepped  on  a  bum- 
ble bee  nest!" 

A  young  gravedigger — if  it  be  correct 
to  call  the  offspring  of  an  old  gravedigger 
a  young  gravedigger — caught  sight  of  the 
[27] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

poachers  just  at  this  moment,  and,  shout- 
ing out,  "Hey,  there!  You!"  started  to- 
ward them  down  the  knoll.  The  incred- 
ible speed  with  which  the  poachers  fled 
seemed  to  give  the  young  gravedigger  an 
erroneous  idea  of  the  fear  that  his  pres- 
ence inspired.  There  was  small  likeli-' 
hood  of  his  overtaking  them  before  they 
reached  the  safety  of  the  other  side  of  the 
fence,  but  they  seemed  to  him  so  little  to 
realize  this  that,  for  the  mere  pleasure  of 
pursuit,  the  young  gravedigger  pounded 
on,  brandishing  his  arms  and  roaring  his 
threats.  By  the  time  Margery  and  Willie 
made  the  fence  they  had  so  far  outdis- 
tanced the  bees  that  Willie  had  courage 
to  face  about  and  shout  back  defiance  to 
all  threats  and  to  show  his  contempt  for 
the  whole  race  of  gravediggers  by  point- 
ing his  thumb  to  his  nose  and  wriggling 
his  fingers  in  that  same  derisive  and,  it 
must  be  conceded,  effective  manner  al- 
ready mentioned.  Although  still  at  a  con- 
[28] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

siderable  distance,  the  young  gravedigger 
caught  the  full  meaning  of  the  insult  and 
almost  exploded  with  rage. 

"You— you  little "  he  began.  But 

he  did  not  finish.  They  saw  him  stop  sud- 
denly, look  up,  and  then,  flinging  his  arms 
over  his  head,  rush  madly  back  the  way 
he  had  just  come. 

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh  I"  Willie  Jones  shouted, 
hopping  up  and  down  in  the  intensity  of 
his  enjoyment.  "Margery,  do  you  see 
him?  The  bees  are  after  him!  Jimmy! 
Jiminy!  Jimmy!" 

Willie  Jones  lay  down  on  the  ground 
and  rolled  and  kicked  and  plucked  up 
handfuls  of  grass  in  an  effort  to  work  off 
the  exuberance  of  his  joy. 

"Oh!"  he  gasped  weakly,  as  the  humor 
of  the  situation  finally  expended  itself. 
"Isn't  that  the  funniest  thing  you  ever 
saw?" 

As  Margery  made  no  answer,  he  turned, 
suddenly  conscious  that  from  the  start 
[29] 


9*     M'!  .         y- 

y-i^^ 


s: 


v\  > 

"Margery,   do  you   see   him? 
The  bees  are  after  him !" 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

she  had  not  been  sharing  his  transports. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Margery?" 

There  was  a  pained  expression  on  Mar- 
gery's face  and  she  was  panting. 

"I'm  stung,"  she  murmured. 

Willie  Jones  did  not  have  to  ask 
"Where?"  for  the  middle  finger  of  one 
hand  was  already  standing  straight  out, 
swollen  and  red. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,  Margery,  honest  I 
am.  Put  some  mud  on  it.  That'll  help 


some." 


"I  don't  see  any  mud,"  Margery  panted, 
looking  hopelessly  over  the  green  meadow. 

"Can't  we  make  some  quick  enough?" 
Willie  asked,  digging  his  heel  into  the 
turf.  "Now,  Margery,  spit  on  this.  .  .  . 
Aw,  that's  not  enough.  Watch  me." 

By  their  united  efforts  they  succeeded 
in  mixing  a  mud  plaster  large  enough  to 
cover  the  wound. 

"There  now,  does  that  feel  better?" 

"I  don't  know,  Willie.  Maybe  it  does. 
[32] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

But  do  you  know — do  you  know — I — I 
think  I'm  getting  sick." 

"Oh,  no,  you're  not.  You  just  think 
you  are.  Brace  up  now  and  you'll  feel 
all  right."  Then,  by  way  of  changing  the 
subject  and  giving  praise  where  praise 
was  due,  he  added:  "That  was  dandy  of 
you  not  dropping  any  berries  when  the 
bees  chased  us.  There  are  not  quite  two 
quarts,  but  don't  you  care.  I  think  my 
mother'll  count  them  for  two." 

But  Margery  was  not  to  be  diverted. 

"Oh,  Willie,"  she  groaned,  "I  feel  aw- 
ful sick!  Oh,  if  I  could  only  thr'upl" 

"Well,  thr'up  if  you  want  to,"  Willie 
advised.  "There's  no  one  around  here, 
and  I  won't  look,  honest  I  won't." 

Margery  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"I  can't  do  it  alone.  I  got  to  have  hot 
water  and  things.  Come  on.  We  better 
go  home  or  I  think  I'll  die.  Oh,  if  my 
head  just  didn't  ache  so!  Maybe  you  bet- 
ter lend  me  your  cap,  Willie.  Thanks.  I 
[38] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

suppose  that'll  help  my  head  some,  but 
I  don't  believe  it  will.  Oh,  Willie,  do  you 
know  what  I  wish?" 

"What?" 

"Oh,  I  do  wish  I  had  never  et  a  single 
banana!  And  I  knew  all  the  time  I 
oughtn't  to  eat  so  many,  I  knew  it  just 
as  well!  Oh,  Willie,  isn't  it  tumble  the 
way  a  person  does  a  thing  even  when  they 
know  they  oughtn't  to?" 

All  the  way  home  Willie  had  very  little 
to  say,  but  he  listened  politely  as  Margery 
talked  on  and  on,  punctuating  her  sad 
moralizings  with  long  labored  breaths  and 
weary  headshakes. 

"And  then  afterwards,  Willie,  if  I  had 
only  sat  still  as  Effie  told  me  to,  I  might 
have  got  off  all  right.  But  no,  I  had  to 
come  racing  off  here  in  the  hot  sun  and  I 
knew  I  oughtn't  to,  and  then  I  went  into 
the  blackberry  patch  and  I  knew  I  hadn't 
any  right  to,  and  all  I  got  to  say  is,  it's 
a  wonder  a  hundred  bees  didn't  sting  me 
[34] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

instead  of  one.  ..." 

Willie  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"Do  you  think  you  got  stung  because 
you  picked  those  berries?" 

"I  just  know  that  was  why." 

"Well,  the  gravedigger  was  getting  it 
worse  than  you,  and  I  guess  he  had  a 
right  to  be  there,  hadn't  he?" 

For  a  moment  Margery  was  stumped, 
but  only  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,  Willie,"  she  said  simply,  "he  had 
a  right  to  chase  us,  but — he  had  no  right 
to  use  such  tumble  langwedge.  I'm  not 
one  bit  surprised  he  got  stung  for  it.  You 
heard  him  yourself,  Willie,  you  know  you 
did." 

Yes,  Willie  had  heard  him,  and  Mar- 
gery was  certainly  right  in  intimating  that 
the  young  gravedigger  was  exceptionally 
fluent  in  cuss  words.  With  cause  and 
effect  so  clearly  demonstrated,  Willie 
Jones  had  no  further  argument  against 
Margery's  conception  of  a  prompt  and 
[35] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

well-deserved  judgment.  He  was  silent 
a  moment,  then  went  back  to  something 
else. 

"So  you  think  you  oughtn't  to  have 
gone  into  the  blackberry  patch  at  all?" 

"Why,  of  course  I  think  so!  I  know 
so !  Wasn't  there  a  sign  up  not  to  ?  Why, 
taking  blackberries  when  there's  a  sign 
up  is  not  much  better  than  downright 
stealing  1" 

"H'm,"  murmured  Willie  Jones  with 
interest.  Then  after  a  pause  he  said: 
"Now,  Margery,  listen  here:  if  you  feel 
as  bad  about  it  as  all  that  I  tell  you  what 
I'll  do — I'll  take  your  share  of  blame  for 
the  berries.  I'll  tell  everybody  that  I 
picked  'em  all." 

Margery  turned  heavy  eyes  on  her  com- 
panion and,  sick  as  she  was,  saw  through 
his  little  scheme  at  once.  He  was  offer- 
ing her  a  chance  to  give  up  her  share  of 
tainted  profits. 

"Thank  you,  Willie,  thank  you  very 
[36] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

much,  but  I  guess  I'll  just  tell  the  truth 
about  the  berries.  It  wouldn't  be  fair  to 
you  if  I  didn't." 

Willie  protested  that  it  would  be  all 
right,  but  Margery  was  firm. 

"No,  WiUie,  I  did  pick  half  of  them, 
that's  all  there  is  about  it,  and  you  mustn't 
pretend  I  didn't.  .  .  .  Oh,  oh,  I  wonder 
do  I  look  as  sick  as  I  feel?" 

Willie  scanned  her  colorless  face  and, 
under  the  delusion  that  sick  folk  desire  to 
look  as  nearly  well  as  possible,  said :  "No, 
you're  looking  all  right."  The  expression 
of  indignant  protest  which  his  cheerful  re- 
mark excited  showed  him  his  mistake,  and 
he  added,  rather  lamely:  "You  do  look 
kind  of  thin,  though." 

"Thin!"  Margery  snorted.  "Why,  Wil- 
lie Jones,  if  you  were  one-half  as  sick  as 
I  am  this  minute,  why,  you — you'd  be 
dead  long  ago !  O-oh !  My  head,  and  my 
stummick,  and  my  finger,  too!  But  my 
finger's  not  as  bad  as  my  head  and  my 
[37] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

stummick.  Oh,  how  I  wish  that  Effie 
was  here  I" 

"Effie?" 

"Yes,  Effie.  She'd  have  me  well  in  two 
minutes." 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  we'll  find  Effie 
when  we  get  home." 

"Why  not?" 

"Don't  you  remember  what  she  said 
when  we  started  out?  Don't  you  know 
she  said  she  was  going  to  her  brother's 
house  because  we  called  her  a  hired  girl?" 

For  the  moment  Margery  had  forgot- 
ten, and  now,  at  this  sudden  reminder, 
she  was  so  overcome  she  had  to  sit  down 
for  a  few  moments  and  rest  on  the  curb- 
stone. 

"Oh,"  she  groaned,  "you  don't  think 
she  really  meant  it,  do  you,  Willie? 
What'll  I  do  if  she's  not  there?  There's 
no  one  else  knows  how  to  make  me  thr'up 
like  Effie!  She  always  does  it  for  me. 
Why,  I'll  just  die,  I  know  I  will,  if  she's 
[38] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

not  there!" 

"I'm  sorry,  Margery,  but  even  if  she  is 
there,  I  don't  think  she'll  do  anything  for 
you  this  time.  She's  pretty  mad  at  both 
of  us." 

"Willie  Jones,"  Margery  said,  with 
sudden  determination,  "you've  got  to  do 
something.  You've  just  got  to!" 

"What?" 

"You've  got  to  apologize  to  Erne  for 
calling  her  a  hired  girl." 

"Well,  ain't  she  a  hired  girl?"  Willie 
protested. 

It  was  the  same  question  Margery  had 
asked  herself  earlier  in  the  day.  Now, 
however,  she  was  ready  to  answer  it  dif- 
ferently. 

"No,"  she  said  firmly,  "she's  not  a  hired 
girl.  She  stays  with  us  because  she  loves 
us  and  wants  to  take  care  of  us.  Once  a 
lady  sneaked  in  and  tried  to  get  Erne  away 
from  us,  and  do  you  know  what  Erne 
did?  She  chased  the  lady  out  of  the 
[39] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

yard!  So  you  see  she's  our  true  friend 
and  just  like  one  of  the  family,  too.  Now 
you're  not  friends  with  a  person  you  call 
a  hired  girl,  are  you?  Effie  was  just  right 
not  to  let  us  call  her  that.  Why,  do  you 
know,  Willie  Jones,"  Margery  concluded 
impressively,  "I  love  Effie  much  better 
than  I  do  some  of  my  relations !" 

This  seemed  an  irrefutable  argument  to 
Margery,  but  Willie  Jones  again  pro- 
tested. 

"She's  a  hired  girl  even  if  you  do  love 
her." 

"She's  not,  I  say!"  roared  Margery. 
"And,  Willie  Jones,  you  stop  arguing! 
You're  making  me  sicker!  Just  see  how 
my  head  wobbles !"  She  wobbled  it  shak- 
ily a  moment  to  show,  and  then  demanded 
sharply:  "Now,  then,  Willie  Jones,  is 
Effie  a  hired  girl  or  isn't  she?" 

Many  a  man  before  Willie  Jones  has 
been  forced  to  make  a  choice  between  facts 
and  a  lady's  increasing  illness  on  the  one 
[40] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

hand  and  fancy  and  her  smiles  on  the 
other.  Like  most  of  his  kind,  Willie  Jones 
had  not  the  moral  courage  to  face  the 
lady's  increasing  illness. 

"Well,  if  you  say  she's  not  a  hired  girl, 
I  guess  she's  not.  You  ought  to  know." 

"And  will  you  apologize  to  her  for  your 
mistake?" 

"Yes,  if  you  want  me  to." 

"Well,  I  do  want  you  to.  So  come  on. 
I'm  nearly  dead  now  and  I  just  tell  you 
I  can't  stand  it  much  longer." 

When  they  reached  the  kitchen,  they 
found  Effie  with  nose  a-tilt  and  eyes  sus- 
piciously red.  At  sight  of  them  she  burst 
into  a  loud  and  cheerful  strain : 

"Wait  till  the  clouds  roll  by,  Nellie, 
Wait  till  the  clouds  roll  by,  ..." 

"Effie,"  Margery  began.  Effie  did  not 
hear,  so  Margery  had  to  try  again. 
"Effie!" 

[41] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

"Oh,"  remarked  Effie,  stopping  her 
song  and  looking  at  them,  as  it  were,  for 
the  first  time.  Then  she  asked,  in  her 
haughtiest  tone:  "Is  it  me  yir  talkin' 
to?" 

"Willie  Jones  wants  to  say  something 
to  you,  Effie." 

Margery  gave  Willie  a  push  and  he 
began  bravely: 

"Say,  Effie,  I'm  awfully  sorry  I  called 
you  that.  But  it  wasn't  my  fault,  honest 
it  wasn't,  because,  don't  you  know,  I 
thought  you  were.  But  Margery  says 
you're  not.  She  says  you're  one  of  the 
fambly." 

"Did  she  honest?"  cried  Effie,  eagerly, 
her  face  lighting  up. 

"Sure  she  did,  Effie.  Why,  do  you 
know,  Effie,  she  says  she  loves  you  better 
than  she  does  any  of  her  real  relations!" 

When  you  undertake  to  do  a  thing  it's 
a  pleasure  to  do  it  properly. 

"No!"  said  Effie,  increduously. 
[42] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

"Cross  my  heart !"  vowed  Willie  Jones, 
suiting  action  to  word. 

"Oh,  you  darlint!"  Effie  cried,  opening 
her  arms  to  gather  in  her  repentant  child. 
Then  she  stopped  in  concern.  "What's 
ailin'  yir  finger?" 

"Stung!"  Margery  quavered.  "  But 
don't  mind  that,  Effie.  It  don't  hurt  much 
now.  It's  my  stummick!  Ugh!  Ugh! 
I'm  just  dying  to  thr'up  I  Please  get  the 
hot  water  and  things,  quick!" 

"And  are  you  feelin'  sick,  you  poor 
lamb,"  Effie  crooned,  compassionately,  as 
she  rushed  about  making  preparations. 
"Now,  dearie- 

"Effie,  make  Willie  Jones  go  out  first." 

"Whoop !"  shouted  Effie,  turning  upon 
Willie  with  brandished  arms. 

"Wait,  Effie,  wait  a  minute!  Tell  him 
when  his  mother  pays  him,  he  can  bring 
over  my  nickel,  and  if  I'm  not  here  he  can 
give  it  to  you." 

"Do  you  hear  that,  now?"  Effie  de- 
[43] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

manded  roughly,  pushing  Willie  out  by 
the  shoulder  and  closing  the  door. 

"Now,  then,  darlint,  just  drink  this 
down.  That's  right.  Drink  it  all.  Now 
swally  yir  little  hand.  That's  right. 
That's  right.  Oh,  now  yir  goin*  a-feel 
fine!  Now  ye'll  soon  be  a  well  girl.  Once 
again.  That's  right.  That's  right.  .  .  . 
It's  just  a  good  thing  to  get  rid  of  all  that 
nasty  old  stuff,  ain't  it,  now?  ..." 

When  this  part  of  Margery's  illness 
was  attended  to,  Effie  bathed  her  finger, 
extracted  the  sting,  and  in  a  short  time 
had  her  feeling  delightfully  convalescent. 

"And,  Effie,"  Margery  began  coaxingly 
in  that  moment  of  sweet  intimacy  between 
nurse  and  patient  when  relief  has  come, 
"you're  never  going  to  Tom  McGinniss's 
house  to  live,  are  you?" 

"Tom  McGinniss's  house!"  snorted  Ef- 
fie, outraged  and  indignant  at  the  mere 
suggestion.  "Well,  I  should  say  not! 
Who's  been  puttin'  such  ideas  into  your 
[44] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

head?  Why,  those  McGinniss  kids,  even 
if  they  are  me  own  flesh  and  blood,  are  a 
set  of  young  ruffians!  And  Tom's  wife! 
Whew!  Would  you  believe  it,  she's  try- 
in'  to  break  into  society!  And  the  things 
I  know  about  her!  No,  siree!  Me  and 
Maggie  McGinniss  couldn't  live  twenty- 
four  hours  under  the  same  roof!  Don't 
you  ever  insult  me  again  by  suggestin* 
such  a  thing!  .  .  .  And  now,  darlint,  I 
think  it  will  be  just  as  well  if  we  go  to 
bed  and  take  a  little  rest." 

After  she  had  punched  the  pillow  and 
smoothed  the  sheet  and  had  been  assured 
several  times  that  the  patient  was  feeling 
just  lovely,  honest  she  was,  Effie  lingered 
a  moment  uncertainly. 

"And,  darlint  dear,"  she  began  half 
shyly,  "you  ain't  never  again  goin*  a-let 
any  one  call  your  poor  old  Effie  that  ugly 
name,  are  you  now?  It's  a  turrible  thing 
to  bunch  a  decent,  hardworkin'  girl  with  a 
set  o'  tramps  like  them  neighborhood  hired 
[45] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

girls.  I  just  tell  you  a  girl  has  to  be 
mighty  careful  nowadays  what  she  lets 
folks  call  her.  Even  if  she's  a  perfect 
lady,  they're  only  too  quick  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  her.  Especially  these  here 
men  and  boys." 

"You  just  bet  they  are!"  Margery 
agreed  heartily.  "They're  always  trying 
to  get  the  best  of  us !  But  just  let  me  tell 
you  one  thing:  You  needn't  think  I'm 
not  going  to  get  that  nickel,  because  I 
am!" 


[46] 


PART  TWO 

THE  next  day  Margery  saw  noth- 
ing   of   Willie   until    afternoon. 
Then  she  caught  him  just  as  he 
was  leaving  his  own  gate.     Apparently 
he  did  not  see  her,  and  she  had  to  gain 
his  attention  by  calling  him. 

"Willie,  wait  a  minute.    I  want  to  ask 
you  something." 

Willie  seemed  to  be  in  a  great  hurry. 
Nevertheless,  he  paused. 

"Well?" 

"Did  your  mother  pay  you  that  dime 
yesterday?" 

"What  dime?" 

"That  dime  for  those  two  quarts  of  ber- 
ries that  you  and  me  picked  together." 

"O-ohl" 

"Well,  did  she?" 

"Did  she?    Of  course  she  did!" 
[47] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

"Well,  have  you  got  my  nickel?" 

Willie  looked  at  her  scornfully. 

"Of  course  I've  got  your  nickel!  Do 
you  suppose  I  eat  'em?" 

Margery  was  very  sure  that  that  was 
exactly  what  he  would  like  to  do  with 
both  their  nickels — transmuted,  that  is  to 
say,  into  eatable  commodities.  But  she 
didn't  care  to  lose  time  on  verbal  quibbles. 
She  came  to  the  point  at  once : 

"Will  you  please  give  me  my  nickel 
now?  I  want  it." 

Willie  squirmed  impatiently. 

"How  can  I  give  you  your  old  nickel 
before  I  get  the  dime  changed?  I  don't 
see  what  you're  in  such  a  rush  for!  Be- 
sides, I'm  in  a  hurry.  I  got  to  see  a 
fella." 

Margery  held  out  her  hand. 

"Give  me  'the  dime  and  Effie  will 
change  it  for  us.  It  won't  take  two  min- 
utes." 

"Effie  nuthin'!  What  do  you  think  I 
[48] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

am?  I  tell  you,  you  got  to  wait!  I'm  in 
a  hurry." 

"And  I  tell  you,  Willie  Jones,  I'm  not 
going  to  wait  any  longer !  I've  been  wait- 
ing ever  since  yesterday  afternoon,  and 
now  I've  got  you  I'm  going  to  stay  right 
with  you  until  you  pay  me !" 

With  a  grunt  of  disgust  Willie  turned 
and  ran.  As  the  weakness  of  sex  and  the 
helplessness  of  young  ladyhood  had  not 
yet  had  time  to  settle  down  upon  her, 
Margery  promptly  ran  after  him.  She 
was  as  good  a  runner  as  he  was  any  day, 
so  he  was  mightily  mistaken  if  he  thought 
he  was  going  to  get  away  by  running. 
After  a  few  moments  he  seemed  to  real- 
ize this,  for  he  drew  up,  panting,  and,  with 
a  change  of  tactics,  turned  a  smiling  face 
to  Margery. 

"Do  you  want  to  spend  your  nickel, 
Margery?" 

Did  she  want  to  spend  her  nickel? 
What  a  question!  Did  he  suppose  she 
[49] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

wanted  to  punch  a  hole  in  it  and  hang  it 
around  her  neck? 

"Of  course  I  want  to  spend  my  nickel! 
And  I  want  to  spend  it  myself,  too.  I 
don't  want  no  one  else  to  spend  it  for 


me." 


Willie  lounged  up  to  the  window  of  a 
bakery  shop. 

"Jimmy,  those  cakes  do  look  good!" 
He  turned  to  her  blandly.  "Say,  Mar- 
gery, do  you  want  me  to  buy  some  cakes?" 

"No,  I  don't  want  you  to  buy  some 
cakes!  All  I  want  is  my  nickel." 

Willie  sighed,  and  went  back  to  the 
cakes.  The  longer  he  looked  the  hun- 
grier he  became.  He  sighed  again. 

"I  just  guess  I'll  have  to  buy  some 
cakes — that's  all  there  is  about  it.  You 
can  wait  out  here  for  me,  Margery." 

But  Margery  did  not  care  to  wait  for 
him   outside.     Bakery   shops   sometimes 
have  back  doors  that  let  out  on  little  al- 
leys.   So  Margery  said: 
[50] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

"I  think  I'll  just  go  in  with  you,  Wil- 
lie." 

Willie  knew  the  cakes  he  wanted,  but, 
being  a  wary  trader,  he  priced  other  kinds 
first. 

"Them's  two  for  a  nickel,"  the  German 
lady  behind  the  counter  told  him,  "and 
them's  a  cent  apiece — ten  cents  a  dozen. 
Oh,  them's  real  expensive — five  cents 
apiece." 

Finally  he  pointed  to  the  objects  of  his 
choice.  They  were  long1,  thick,  yteflow 
cakes,  fancifully  encrusted  with  chocolate. 

"Three  for  a  nickel,"  the  German  lady 
said. 

Willie  sighed  so  hopelessly  that  the 
German  lady  relented. 

"By  rights,  they're  three  for  a  nickel, 
but  I  tell  you  what  I'll  do :  I'll  make  'em 
to  you  a  cent  apiece.  But  you  mustn't 
tell  no  one." 

Willie  promised  he  wouldn't,  and 
bought  two.  In  payment  he  offered  the 
[51] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

German  lady  a  dime.  Margery  looked 
significantly  at  the  change  as  the  Ger- 
man lady  counted  it  out ;  but  Willie  quite 
mechanically  slipped  it  all  into  his  pocket. 

The  German  lady  beamed  on  them 
kindly. 

"Say,  yous  two  can  sit  down  at  one 
of  them  little  tables,  if  yous  want  to,  and 
eat  your  cakes.  By  rights,  only  ten-cent 
orders  can  sit  down,  but  I'll  let  yous  this 
time." 

"Thank  you,"  Willie  Jones  said  po- 
litely. "That'll  be  much  nicer." 

So  they  sat  them  down  at  an  ice-cream 
table,  and  Willie  at  once  proffered  Mar- 
gery his  open  bag. 

"Don't  you  want  a  cake?" 

In  one  sense  Margery  did  want  a  cake, 
but  under  the  circumstances  she  deemed 
it  wise  not  to  humor  her  appetite.  So  she 
said: 

"No,  thanks;  I'm  not  hungry." 

Willie  gallantly  urged,  but  Margery 
[52] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

was  firm,  and  at  length  he  was  forced  to 
begin  alone. 

He  ate  with  zest.  Gazing  at  him,  Mar- 
gery had  time  to  ask  herself  what  in  the 
world  was  possessing  him  to  act  so.  If 
that  nickel  were  owing  to  Henry,  or  to 
Freddy  Larkin,  or,  in  fact,  to  any  boy, 
Margery  knew  with  no  possibility  of 
doubt  that  Willie  Jones  would  pay  up  at 
once.  Among  his  own  kind,  he  passed 
for  a  fellow  that  was  honest  and  square, 
but  for  some  reason,  some  utterly  illogical 
but  nevertheless  generally  accepted  rea- 
son, just  because  she  was  a  female  crea- 
ture, in  dealing  with  her  he  felt  at  liberty 
to  cast  aside  that  code  of  conduct  by  which 
ordinarily  he  acted.  And — if  the  outrage 
needed  a  climax — the  rest  of  mankind, 
should  they  hear  of  Willie  Jones's  be- 
havior, instead  of  turning  from  him  with 
the  cold  shoulder  of  disapproval,  would 
merely  laugh  amusedly.  Oh,  think  of  it! 
The  injustice  of  things!  The  rank,  the 
[53] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

black  injustice!  Margery  turned  wild 
eyes  to  heaven  to  register  her  dumb  but 
not  for  that  reason  any  less  vehement  pro- 
test. 

Willie,  meantime,  munched  calmly  on. 
As  the  moments  passed,  he  ate  more 
slowly.  Naturally.  The  cakes  he  had  so 
carefully  selected  were  not  hollow  inside, 
but  as  solid  as  they  looked,  and  conse- 
quently somewhat  dry  and  crumbly.  Dry- 
ness  and  crumbliness  induce  thirst,  and 
thirst,  as  every  one  knows,  is  one  of  the 
first  things  to  eat  up  a  man's  wealth. 
Willie  Jones  swallowed  hard,  and  in- 
quired : 

"Would  you  like  a  glass  of  milk,  Mar- 
gery?" 

"Would  I  like  a  glass  of  milk!"  Mar- 
gery's tone  seemed  to  add:  On  my  own 
money,  I  suppose  you  mean!  Aloud  she 
concluded:  "I  should  say  not!  I  can  get 
milk  at  home." 

Willie  got  up  and  went  over  to  the 
[54] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

counter. 

"How  much  is  your  milk  a  glass?" 

"Three  cents,"  the  German  lady  said. 

Willie  sighed,  and  turned  sadly  away. 
The  German  lady  called  him  back. 

"By  rights  it's  three  cents,  but  I'll  give 
it  to  you  for  two." 

Margery  heard  distinctly.  Two  cents 
for  cakes,  two  cents  for  milk.  Good! 
That  left  him  one  cent  of  his  own  money. 

Willie  Jones  leisurely  finished  the  last 
crumb  of  cake  and  drained  his  glass. 

"Well,  so  long,  Margery.  I  guess  I 
better  be  going.  I  got  to  see  a  fella  down 
in  East  Maplewood." 

"Give  me  my  nickel,  Willie,  or  I'll  have 
to  go  with  you.  I  told  you  I  would." 

"Well,  of  course,  Margery,  you  can 
come  down  to  East  Maplewood  if  you 
want  to.  But  it's  pretty  far."  He  spoke 
as  though  the  possible  fatigue  to  Mar- 
gery really  concerned  him. 

Margery  straightened  her  lips,  and  fell 
[55] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

into  step.  She  told  herself  that  she  was 
getting  mad.  The  state  of  her  feelings, 
however,  seemed  to  have  no  effect  upon 
her  companion.  He  continued  exasperat- 
ingly  bland  and  friendly.  At  street  cross- 
ings he  warned  her  of  the  danger  of  ap- 
proaching vehicles;  he  begged  her  to  step 
this  way  or  that  in  order  not  to  muddy 
her  shoes;  and  along  the  flower  beds  of 
Boulevard  Place  he  insisted  upon  her  tell- 
ing him  which  she  preferred,  red  gera- 
niums or  pink,  and  why. 

As  they  came  into  East  Maplewood  his 
manner  changed.  A  frown  settled  be- 
tween his  eyes,  and  he  drew  a  long  breath 
of  rising  indignation.  He  was  deciding 
evidently  that  patience  and  forbearance 
had  reached  their  limit.  Stopping  short 
in  front  of  a  little  candy  store,  he  turned 
upon  Margery  with  a  sudden  grim  threat 
in  voice  and  eye. 

"Now,  then,  Margery,  I've  stood  this 
foolin'  long  enough!    Beat  it!" 
[56] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

But  Margery  gave  him  back  look  for 
look,  and,  instead  of  shrinking  away  at 
sight  of  his  determined  glance,  answered 
emphatic  scowl  with  scowl  just  as  em- 
phatic. 

" You've  stood  this  fooling  long  enough, 
have  you,  Willie  Jones  ?  And  what  about 
me?  There's  just  one  thing  I  want  to 
tell  you :  You'll  never  get  rid  of  me  until 
you  give  me  my  nickel  I" 

"Aw,  go  on " 

Willie  Jones  broke  off  as  two  little  girls 
who  were  passing  stopped  to  look  inquir- 
ingly, not  to  say  inquisitively,  from  him 
to  Margery.  They  were  both  a  few  years 
older  than  Margery,  poor  children  evi- 
dently, for  one  of  them  carried  a  parcel 
of  afternoon  papers  that  she  seemed  to 
be  delivering.  It  was  the  other  one  who, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  addressed  Mar- 
gery: 

"What's  the  matter,  little  girl?     Has 
he  got  a  nickel  of  yours?" 
[57] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

Margery  hesitated.  Her  struggle  with 
Willie  Jones  was  so  much  like  a  family 
quarrel  that  she  was  loath  to  call  in  out- 
side interference.  Truth  to  tell,  if  Willie 
Jones  had  been  her  own  brother  Henry, 
she  would  have  died  rather  than  disclose 
to  the  world  the  disgraceful  cause  of  their 
wrangle.  But  Willie  Jones  wasn't  Henry, 
and,  besides  that,  Henry,  though  he  was 
a  boy,  would  never  act  this  way  about  a 
nickel  that  was  really  hers.  This  thought 
decided  her.  She  would  give  Willie  Jones 
one  more  chance,  and  then,  if  he  still  per- 
sisted in  ignoring  the  justice  of  her  claim, 
she  would  force  the  situation  by  inviting 
the  assistance  of  these  friendly  strangers. 

Her  words,  though  directed  only  to 
Willie,  told  the  listening  world  all  that  it 
need  know. 

"I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with 
you,  Willie.  I  don't  see  why  you're  act- 
ing so  mean.  You  know  very  well  that 
nickel  in  your  pocket,  on  the  right-hand 
[58] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

side,  is  mine.  Now,  I  ask  you  for  the  last 
time:  Please  give  it  to  me." 

Margery  held  out  her  hand,  but  Willie, 
excited,  perhaps,  by  the  presence  of  the 
newcomers,  seemed  to  lose  all  sense  of 
the  fitness  of  things,  for  he  dashed  Mar- 
gery's hand  rudely  aside,  and  shouted 
angrily: 

"Aw,  go  on!  What  do  you  think  I 
am?  I'll  give  you  that  nickel  when  I'm 
good  and  ready,  and  not  before!" 

"O-oh!"  the  newcomers  chorused,  in 
horror,  and  the  young  lady  who  had  al- 
ready spoken  to  Margery  exclaimed  to 
the  lady  of  the  papers : 

"Oh,  Rosie,  ain't  he  just  awful?" 

Then  she  turned  to  Margery. 

"You  poor  thing!  What's  your  name?" 

Margery  told  her. 

"Margery,  did  you  say?  Well,  Mar- 
gery, let  me  introduce  you  to  my  friend, 
Rosie  O'Brien.  Rosie,  this  is  my  friend, 
Margery." 

[59]' 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

"Glad  to  know  you,"  Rosie  said,  put- 
ting out  the  hand  that  was  unencumbered 
with  papers.  "And  her  name,"  Rosie  con- 
tinued, indicating  the  introductress  of  the 
moment  before,  "is  Janet  McFadden. 
Janet,  won't  you  shake  hands  with  my 
friend,  Margery?" 

Janet  would,  and  did  so  most  cordially. 
Then,  pointing  with  her  thumb  over  her 
shoulder,  not  deigning  to  waste  even  a 
glance  on  Willie  Jones,  she  inquired 
haughtily : 

"And  what  does  he  answer  to?" 

Margery  told  her. 

"Huh!  Well,  we'll  Willie- Jones  him, 
all  right,  before  we're  through  with  him!" 

Now,  it  has  been  said  that  for  every 
great  cause  a  leader  springs  up.  This, 
no  doubt,  is  also  true  of  lesser  causes.  At 
any  rate,  the  businesslike  manner  in  which 
Miss  Janet  McFadden  proceeded  at  once 
to  roll  up  her  sleeves  was  enough  to  con- 
vince one  that  the  cause  of  Margery's 
[60] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

nickel  had  called  forth  its  champion — a 
champion,  be  it  added,  not  only  willing 
but  able. 

"Lay  down  your  papers,  Rosie,"  was 
Janet's  first  command,  "and  put  a  stone 
on  them  so's  they  won't  blow  away. 
That's  right.  Now  I  guess  we're  ready." 

Willie  Jones  was  regarding  them  all 
with  dark  looks,  tinged,  perhaps,  with  just 
a  shade  of  concern. 

"Say  there,  you  better  look  out  what 
you  think  you're  doing!  If  you're  not 
careful  some  of  you'll  get  hurt!" 

Janet  McFadden  answered  this  warn- 
ing with  an  order  to  her  own  forces : 

"Now,  girls,  don't  hurt  him  any  more 
than  you  can  help!" 

Willie  Jones  spluttered  with  rage,  and 
while  he  was  spluttering  Janet  murmured 
tersely : 

"Now's  our  time!  When  I  count  three, 
we'll  go  for  him.  I'll  go  for  his  arms; 
Rosie,  you  grab  his  legs  and  feet;  and 
[61] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

Margery  can  make  for  his  pocket.  Now  I 
One — two — three !" 

Willie  Jones  put  up  a  gallant  fight,  but 
what,  pray,  are  two  stout  arms  against 
six  just  as  stout?  What,  say,  avails  two 
strong  legs  that  are  pressed,  hugged, 
jammed  together  by  a  human  snake  who 
has  twisted  herself  about  them,  and  is  sit- 
ting on  their  helpless  feet? 

The  violence  of  the  contest  was  over  in 
a  moment,  and  Janet  was  urging: 

"Quick,  Margery,  quick!  His  pocket!" 

But  when  you're  not  trained  to  the  busi- 
ness, it's  fearfully  hard  to  slip  your  hand 
deftly  into  some  one  else's  pocket.  Mar- 
gery bungled,  and  Janet,  impatient  at 
her  slowness,  loosened  slightly  her  own 
hold.  On  the  instant,  Willie  Jones 
wrenched  one  arm  free,  dived  into  his 
pocket,  and  before  his  captors  knew  what 
he  was  about  had  pulled  up  the  nickel  and 
popped  it  into  his  mouth. 

"You  villain!"  cried  Janet  McFadden, 
[62] 


I1ST  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

unspeakably  incensed  at  this  fresh  out- 
rage. "You  spit  that  nickel  right  out! 
Do  you  hear  me?" 

Willie  Jones  made  no  answer.  His 
mouth  was  too  tightly  shut  to  answer. 

Janet  would  have  shaken  him  soundly, 
but  Margery  stopped  her. 

"Be  careful,  Janet,  be  careful!  If  he 
was  to  swallow  it  I  never  would  get  it 
back!" 

Willie  Jones's  face  lit  up,  and  he 
nodded  his  head  vigorously. 

For  a  moment  Janet  McFadden  was 
silent,  then  she  laughed. 

"All  right;  let  him  swallow  it  if  he 
wants  to !  But  if  he  does  he'll  turn  green 
as  grass  and  die  of  blood  poison,  won't  he, 
Rosie?" 

"You  bet  he  will!"  Miss  O'Brien  called 
up  from  below.  "By  this  time  to-morrow 
he'll  be  dead!  Then  the  patrol  wagon'll 
come  for  him,  and  they'll  carry  him  off 
to  the  morgue  like  that  Dago  that 
[63] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

dropped  dead  on  our  street.    You  remem- 
ber about  him,  don't  you,  Janet?" 

"Sure  I  do.     He  had  earrings  in  his 


ears." 


The  earrings  seemed  to  be  too  much 
for  Willie  Jones.  The  look  of  triumph 
slowly  faded  from  his  face. 

"Go  ahead,  swallow  it!"  Janet  McFad- 
den  gently  urged.  She  waited  a  moment, 
then  declared  emphatically:  "Well,  if 
he  won't  swallow  it  he's  got  to  spit  it 
out;  that's  all  there  is  about  it  I  Here, 
Rosie,  we're  going  to  lay  him  down  on  his 
stummick,  so  you  lift  his  legs  up.  He 
can't  do  a  thing — I've  got  his  arms." 

Willie  Jones  struggled,  apparently  on 
principle,  not  surely  with  any  conviction 
that  his  struggling  would  avail  him.  In 
a  moment  Janet  had  him  down  and  placed 
to  her  liking.  A  crowd  was  gathering, 
so  there  was  no  time  to  lose. 

"Now,  then,  Margery,"  Janet  com- 
manded, "quick  I  Grab  his  nose  and  hold 
[64] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

it  shut  real  tight !    That'll  make  his  mouth 
open  if  anything  will." 

This  time  Margery  did  her  part  with- 
out bungling,  and  in  spite  of  the  look  of 
reproach  that  Willie  gave  her.  His  time 
was  come.  He  held  in  as  long  as  the 
human  engine  can,  then  exploded.  The 
force  of  the  explosion  blew  the  nickel  out 
of  his  mouth,  and,  lo,  all  Margery  had  to 
do  was  pick  it  up. 

Thus  the  struggle  ended. 

Janet  and  the  faithful  Rosie,  releasing 
their  captive,  jumped  nimbly  aside,  and, 
amid  the  jeers  of  the  onlookers,  Willie 
Jones  got  slowly  to  his  feet. 

"Aw,  shucks!  You  call  that  fair — 
three  against  one?" 

Janet  answered  at  once: 

"I  call  anything  fair  when  there's  more 
on  the  girl's  side!" 

Turning  her  back  on  Willie  Jones, 
Janet  put  an  affectionate  arm  about  Ma- 
gery's  shoulder. 

[65] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

"Are  you  going  to  spend  your  nickel, 
Margery?" 

Margery  thought  she  was. 

"Candy?" 

"Yes,  I  thought  I'd  get  some  candy. 
Do  you  and  Rosie  like  jaw-breakers?" 

Janet  and  Rosie  both  adored  jaw- 
breakers. 

"Is  this  a  good  place?"  Margery  asked, 
pointing  to  the  little  candy  store  near 
which  they  were  standing. 

Janet  was  horrified. 

"I  should  say  not!  The  jaw-breakers 
here  are  the  weeniest  little  things  I  No. 
A  little  ways  up  the  street  there's  another 
candy  store  that  has  jaw-breakers  as  big 
as  eggs !  They  last  at  least  an  hour,  don't 
they,  Rosie?  Come  on,  and  I'll  show 
you." 

To  their  surprise,  Willie  Jones  accom- 
panied them.  In  spite  of  all  that  had  oc- 
curred, he  seemed  still  to  consider  himself 
an  honored  member  of  the  group.  Rosie 
[66] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

O'Brien  stared  at  him  incredulously,  and 
Janet  McFadden,  casting  long-suffering 
eyes  to  the  telegraph  wires  overhead, 
snorted  out: 

"Huh!  The  cheek  of  some  people, 
coming  along  with  you  whether  you  ask 
them  or  not !" 

The  jaw-breakers  at  the  second  store 
were  nearly  as  large  as  Janet  had  re- 
ported them.  The  mere  sight  of  them 
made  your  mouth  ache  in  delicious  dis- 
comfort. To  hold  six  of  them  Margery 
had  to  make  a  little  basket  of  both  hands. 
This  basket  she  carefully  carried  outside, 
where  she  paused,  ready  to  pass  it  around. 
To  Janet's  indignation,  Willie  Jones 
pressed  forward  as  confident  as  any  one, 
and  Margery  did  not  repulse  him.  In 
fact,  in  her  own  mind,  Margery  had  al- 
ready decided  that  she  could  afford  to  be 
magnanimous.  So,  to  show  how  far  she 
could  rise  above  petty  resentment,  she 
was  about  to  offer  the  jaw-breakers  to 
[67] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

Willie  first  of  all,  when  suddenly  his  face 
took  on  an  expression  of  overwhelming 
horror,  and,  pointing  a  startled  finger 
over  Margery's  shoulder,  he  cried  out: 

"Oh,  look  I" 

Every  one,  of  course,  looked,  and  while 
they  were  looking  Willie  Jones  swooped 
down  upon  the  unprotected  jaw-breakers, 
grabbed  as  many  as  he  could,  and  fled. 
While  the  others  were  still  gazing  stu- 
pidly at  each  other  he  disappeared  around 
a  corner. 

Rosie  O'Brien  was  the  first  to  recover 
speech  enough  to  gasp  out: 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  that?" 

Janet  McFadden,  groaning  in  helpless 
rage,  worked  her  arms  up  and  down, 
clenched  and  unclenched  her  hands,  and 
breathed  hard. 

"O-oh !  Do  you  know — do  you  know — 
sometimes  I  get  so  mad  that  I'd  just  like 
to  wring  the  neck  of  every  boy  in  the 
world!" 

[68] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

Margery  alone  had  nothing  to  say.  She 
stooped  to  pick  up  the  only  two  jaw- 
breakers that  were  left.  These  were  on 
the  pavement,  for,  in  snatching,  Willie 
had  knocked  them  out  of  her  hands. 

"I — I  don't  believe  I  want  any  jaw- 
breakers to-day."  Margery  spoke  with  a 
slight  quaver.  "You — you  two  can  have 
them." 

She  offered  one  to  Rosie,  but  Rosie,  in- 
stead of  taking  it,  threw  her  arms  impul- 
sively about  Margery's  neck. 

"You  poor  thing!  That'd  be  nice,  now, 
wouldn't  it?  And  you  not  have  even  one 
of  your  own  jaw-breakers!  No!  I  just 
tell  you  what  we'll  do:  You'll  have  one 
whole  one  for  yourself,  and  me  and 
Janet '11  divide  the  other.  I'll  suck  it  for 
a  block,  and  then  Janet  can  suck  it  for  a 
block." 

This  was  the  arrangement  finally 
agreed  upon. 

"And  wouldn't  you  like  to  come  with 
[69] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

us,  Margery,  while  I  finish  up  my  paper 
route?" 

Yes,  Margery  would  just  as  soon  do 
that  as  anything  else. 

Rosie  petted  and  comforted  her  as  best 
she  could,  teaching  her  how  to  wrap  a 
paper  that  is  to  be  thrown  on  a  porch, 
explaining  to  her  the  scale  of  profits  in 
the  newspaper  business,  and  giving  her 
interesting  bits  of  family  history  about  the 
various  houses  where  they  stopped. 

Had  she  been  alone  with  Rosie,  Mar- 
gery would  have  been  allowed  to  forget 
somewhat  her  recent  troubles.  In  fact, 
she  almost  did  forget  them  once  or  twice 
at  moments  when  Janet  McFadden  was 
busy  sucking  the  jaw-breaker.  But  the 
instant  it  became  Rosie's  turn  to  suck, 
Janet  was  back  again  on  the  old  subject. 

"Ha,  ha!     Don't  you  think  I  know 

'em?"    The  fem  of  Janet's  acquaintance 

were,  of  course,  Willie  Jones  and  his  kind. 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,  I  know  'em  just  as  well! 

[70] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

They're  all  the  same,  every  last  one  of 
them,  always  getting  the  best  of  us,  and 
then  going  off  by  themselves  and  having 
a  good  time !  I  tell  you,  if  I  had  my  way, 
things'd  be  different!  Oh,  I  tell  you,  if 
we'd  all  just  get  together  and  treat  'em 
like  they  ought  to  be  treated,  it — it — it — 
it'd  be  just  good  for  'em — it  would!" 

Of  course,  everything  Janet  said  was 
gospel  truth,  and  there  was  no  gainsay- 
ing it;  but  even  truth  is  sometimes  de- 
pressing, and  not  the  thing  one  wishes 
forever  to  have  dinned  into  one's  ears. 

"And  I  know  just  as  well  as  I  know  my 
own  name,  Margery,  that  now,  after  he's 
acted  this  way,  he'll  be  coming  back  try- 
ing to  make  friends  with  you.  You 
needn't  tell  me  I  I  know  him !  But  listen 
here,  Margery,  don't  have  a  thing  to  do 
with  him !  Don't  ever  speak  to  him  again, 
and  pretend  you  don't  even  see  him.  He's 
not  worth  it — honestly  he's  not!" 

When  Margery  parted  from  them  later 
[71] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

in  the  afternoon  Janet  made  her  solemnly 
promise  that  henceforward  she  would  con- 
sider Willie  Jones  as  dirt  beneath  her 
feet.  It  was  neither  the  time  nor  the  place 
for  Margery  to  ask  herself  whether  she 
really  wished  to  make  such  a  promise,  for, 
in  the  presence  of  so  fiery  an  apostle  of 
female  rights,  her  private  inclinations  sim- 
ply shriveled  to  fine  ashes  and  blew  away. 

"Of  course,"  murmured  Margery  meek- 
ly, "of  course  I'll  never  speak  to  him 
again." 

"That's  right!"  Janet  declared.  "He 
don't  deserve  it." 

"And  say,  Margery,"  Rosie  O'Brien 
begged,  in  parting,  "come  down  to  East 
Maplewood  again  some  afternoon,  won't 
you?  I  start  on  my  paper  route  at  half 
past  three — you  know  where.  I'd  love 
to  have  you  come  again." 

"I'll  come  if  I  can,  Rosie — honest,  I 
will.  Both  of  you  have  been  just  as  nice 
to  me!  Good-by." 

[72] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

Margery  trudged  homeward,  feeling 
tired  and  a  little  down-hearted.  Janet 
McFadden  was  entirely  right:  Willie 
Jones  was  a  villain  and  a  rogue.  But, 
even  so,  wasn't  it  rather  a  pity  to  end 
things  forever,  after  all  the  good  times 
they  had  once  had  together?  Dear,  dear! 
In  a  maleless  world,  justice  to  ladies 
would  no  doubt  prevail;  but,  alas,  alas, 
in  such  a  world  the  ladies  who  enjoy  male 
society  would  probably  feel  a  bit  lone- 
some. 

"Say,  Margery,  hold  on  a  minute!" 

The  voice  was  unmistakable,  but  Mar- 
gery did  not  turn  her  head. 

"Say,  Margery,  I'm  awfully  sorry — 
honest,  I  am.  I  was  only  fooling." 

There  he  was,  just  as  Janet  said  he 
would  be.  Janet  knew.  So  far  as  Mar- 
gery herself  was  concerned,  she  would  just 
as  soon  make  friends,  but  she  had  promised 
Janet,  and  she  must  keep  her  word. 
Heigho ! 

[T3] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

"And  lookee  here,  Margery,  here  are 
all  your  jaw-breakers.  I  ain't  et  one — 
honest,  I  ain't." 

Margery  looked,  and,  lo,  in  his  hand 
lay  four  jaw-breakers,  three  of  them  as 
black  and  shiny  as  the  moment  they  had 
left  the  little  candy  store,  the  fourth 
sucked  down  only  to  the  pink. 

"I  couldn't  help  tasting  one  of  them, 
Margery,  but  I  only  sucked  it  a  few 
minutes — honest,  I  did.  And  here," 
Willie  Jones  continued,  offering  her  a 
little  bag,  "is  a  cake  I  bought  for  you 
with  my  last  cent." 

"Oh,  Willie,  did  you  really?" 

"You  just  got  to  take  it,  Margery.  I 
want  you  to.  I'm  awful  sorry  I  was  so 
mean  to  you,  but,  don't  you  know,  when 
that  old  Janet  McFadden  butted  in,  I 
just  couldn't  help  it.  I  always  did  hate 
a  girl  like  her!  But  I  was  going  to  give 
you  your  nickel,  all  right.  I  meant  to  all 
along.  Of  course  I  did!  Wasn't  it  your 
[74] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

nickel?" 

"Oh,  Willie,  and  did  you  really  buy 
that  cake  for  me  with  your  own  cent,  and 
you  didn't  eat  up  all  my  jaw-breakers?" 

"Of  course  you  know  I  was  just  fool- 
ing about  that  nickel,  don't  you,  Mar- 
gery?" 

There  is  no  telling  what  Margery 
really  knew  down  deep  in  her  heart,  and 
it  didn't  in  the  least  matter.  All  that 
mattered  now  was  this :  Here  was  Willie 
Jones,  genuinely  ashamed  of  what  he  had 
done,  and  man  enough  to  say  so.  Mar- 
gery forgave  him  instantly. 

"But,  Willie,  I  just  won't  eat  a  bite  of 
that  cake  unless  you  take  half,  Here,  let 
me  break  it  in  two." 

After  they  had  eaten  the  cake,  she  in- 
sisted likewise  upon  sharing  the  recovered 
jaw-breakers. 

"And  I'm  going  to  take  the  one  you've 
partly  sucked  for  one  of  mine,  because  I've 
had  a  whole  one  already,  and  you  haven't 
[75] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

had  any." 

Willie  Jones  protested,  but  this  time 
Margery  had  her  way,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments, after  the  friendliest  of  partings, 
he  was  started  home  with  a  fresh  jaw- 
breaker in  his  cheek  and  another  in  his 
pocket. 

Of  course,  without  a  thought,  Margery 
had  broken  her  promise  to  Janet.  Well, 
what  if  she  had?  Margery  gave  her  shoul- 
ders an  impatient  little  shrug.  Who, 
pray,  was  Janet  McFadden  that  she 
should  come  between  friends?  To  be  sure, 
in  her  way,  Janet  was  a  good,  kind  crea- 
ture, and  she  meant  well,  but  wasn't  she 
a  trifle  excitable  and  a  little  too  emphatic, 
don't  you  think?  On  the  whole,  too,  her 
outlook  on  life  seemed  rather  limited. 
There  were  certain  things  you  never  could 
expect  her  to  understand.  Come  to  think 
of  it,  she  didn't  look  like  a  girl  who  re- 
ceived many  valentines.  It  might  be  just 
as  well  if  Margery  never  saw  her  again, 
[76] 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

for  explanations  would  be  difficult. 

Not  so,  though,  with  Rosie  O'Brien! 
If  Margery  ever  met  Rosie  alone,  she 
could  explain  to  Rosie,  and  Rosie,  she 
felt  sure,  would  understand  at  once.  Rosie 
had  bright  blues  eyes  and  pretty  hair  that 
blew  about  her  face  in  soft,  alluring  ring- 
lets. Rosie  without  a  doubt  would  under- 
stand. 

Poor  Janet  McFadden!  Margery 
really  felt  sorry  for  Janet  as  she  thought 
of  her  going  through  life  weighted  down 
with  such  a  grievance.  Of  course,  it  was 
awfully  good  of  her,  the  way  she  had 
espoused  Margery's  cause.  Poor  thing, 
she  was  probably  still  fuming  over  Mar- 
gery's wrongs  at  this  very  moment,  when 
Margery  herself,  sucking  hard  at  Willie 
Jones's  half-finished  jaw-breaker,  which 
she  was  in  hopes  of  concluding  before  din- 
ner, was  feeling  anything  but  injured  and 
down-trodden.  Perhaps,  though,  it  was 
the  poor  thing's  pleasure  to  keep  herself 
[77] 


A  LITTLE  QUESTION 

always  stirred  up. 

For  some  reason  Margery  was  not  hun- 
gry for  dinner,  but  she  forced  herself  to 
eat  enough  to  avert  paternal  questioning. 
The  last  jaw-breaker  she  was  saving  for 
bed.  She  could  take  half  an  hour's  sweet 
comfort  from  it  before  going  to  sleep,  and 
still  have  something  to  look  forward  to 
upon  awakening  next  morning. 

While  she  waited  after  dinner  until  she 
could,  in  decency,  retire,  she  sat  a  while 
within  the  family  circle,  quietly  musing 
upon  the  day's  adventures.  What  a 
strange,  delightful,  interesting  sort  of  a 
place  the  world  was,  to  be  sure,  with  all 
its  fiery  Janet  McFaddens,  and  sweet 
Rosie  O'Briens,  and  paradoxical  Willie 
Joneses!  My  but  she  was  glad  that  she 
was  alive! 

And  she  really  was  sorry  for  Janet.  If 
she  could  only  make  her  see 

"Well,  after  all,  Margery,  what  do  you 
think  about  it?" 

[78]! 


IN  LADIES'  RIGHTS 

Her  father  was  looking  at  her  with  a 
quizzical  expression,  but  his  question 
chimed  in  so  well  with  her  own  thoughts 
that  before  she  realized  what  she  was  say- 
ing, Margery  answered: 

"I  don't  care  if  they  do  act  mean  some- 
times—  I  like  'eml" 


THE  END 


[79] 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


REMINGTON   RAND  INC.    2O 


(533) 


AA    000475464    4 


PZ7 
Fl*8  1 


The  Library  of 
DAVID   FKEEDMAN 


BOOK  NO, 


